Denaturing
by Healer Kira
Summary: That simple word... It goes against all of Count's orders, but how can he resist remembering his own life? Mr. L, mental torment, no gore.
1. Chapter 1

Mr. L knocked on the door to Count Bleck's study and waited. A mix of terror and impatience bubbled in his chest. First day as official minion, and Count Bleck had already called him into his office- He was certainly getting off to a good start.

A soft call of "enter "finally greeted his ears and Mr. L went into the office. Count Bleck smiled at him as he walked forward.

"Mr. L! So Nastasia released you from the infirmary. I see you have recovered nicely, bleck."

"Yes sir," Mr. L replied.

The Count stood and walked around the large desk to stand in front of the minion. He looked down at Mr. L with a mixed look of happiness and sternness.

"Every Saturday is a free day; Minions are allowed to do whatever they wish, bleck. Every other day, I expect you to be training with the other minions to delay the heroes. Meals all have specific times, and you are expected to be at all meals. Nastasia can give you the details tomorrow, bleck. I assume she has already informed you as to which room you will be staying in"

Mr. L nodded, "Uh, Yes sir."

Count Bleck paused for a moment, the hand holding his cane absently tapping the ground.

"I expect great things from you Mr. L. " He said finally." The Prophecy speaks much of you. Do not fail in your missions, and train all you can, bleck. Try not to dwell too much on the past. Remain in the present, as it is where you are needed.

Mr. L nodded again. "Yes sir."

Count turned and made a gesture Mr. L could only assume was dismissal. He exited the office and began walking to the quarter, Nastasia had assigned him that morning.

_The Count has a lot riding on me, _he reasoned. _I'm important I suppose. Important, but for what reason_

He consulted the map Nastasia had given him as he came upon as set of stairs.

_Down the stairs, down the hall, down the stairs again. This place is a maze. _

Mr. L went down them one at a time, and walked down the hall.

_I wonder what the other minions will be like. Like me, not remembering anything, or like the count and Nastasia…_

A grey door passed into his line of sight and left. He craned his head and look at the metal door as he kept on walking, the thought to stop never crossing his mind.

_All the doors in this place are wooden; I wonder what that one hides. Nastasia probably knows. I have to go to her office tomorrow before breakfast, I'll ask her then._

Absently he thought of how the conversation before breakfast would go down and gazed into the open doorways, passing kitchens and rooms with couches and games. At the end of the hallway Mr. L met another staircase. When it tapered off to even ground, he looked down the hallway of the minions' quarters.

He took note as he passed each door.

_Mimi and O'Chunks, they must have been here first. There are double doors to the right,- leads to the entrance hall I bet. There's Dimentio, and the last one's mine. _

When he entered, Mr. L barely looked around. It had been a long day, filled with paperwork and contracts and rules, and despite the time- _It's 7:45, I've been listening to Nastasia all day- _he felt it was time to sleep.

Mr. L flung himself on the bed, clothes and all, and closed his eyes.

_At least dinners already passed, so I won't have to go to Count's office again. _ He thought to himself.

OoO

_I've been out of writing for a while. I wrote this recently, it's not too bad. I like it. I'd love to hear your guys feedback on it. Anything I can do to make it smoother?  
I'll do this the same way I did it on DA; I'll post a chapter a day. _

_See ya._


	2. Chapter 2

This was the last bit of wiring needed for the robot to be completed. When it was done, Mr. L could report to Nastasia, and set off to the fight the heroes.

He snatched his tweezers and pick from the work bench and began.

The meatal door he had found so curious before

(_all other doors wooden) _

turned out to be a workshop of some sorts. Count Bleck didn't like to speak of what purpose it had before, Nastasia said, but if Mr. L could use it for anything, he was free to.  
It was astonishing of how many of the tools in here he could identify. All these parts and wires- before he had laid eyes on him, he couldn't say he knew they existed. But as he looked, and discovered, everything fell into place.

(_like ones destiny and whatever else Dimentio said)_

Mr. L gave a quick glance upward, to the face of the robot. He didn't know what he was building until it was built- and what he had built had turned out to be an almost perfect replica of his own face, with missiles and all sorts of defense systems.

_He's like my twin, you could say, _Mr. L mused, _a twin or maybe a brother. Brother, that one's right. My brother, robot, brobot. My mechanical brother._

Mr. L smiled. No one in this castle really seemed to be friendly

(_bunch of juniors, can't beat the heroes, even though they're too busy training to even be social)_

so it was nice to finally have someone on his side. Even if it was an imaginary relationship

_(he's a robot so not he or she but it)_

He felt less lonely with something near to a friend.

_My brother. My mechanical brother. _He thought to himself. _My brother. _

He set the last wire in its place and wondered if he would beat the heroes when the others had failed.

OoO

His battle did not fare well. Mr. L couldn't resist flinging his electrical drill across the room, and then the screwdriver, and then his box of washers and bolts. They clattered to the ground, the battery snapping out of drill and washers rolling across the floor like miniature tires.

_You failed._ _You failed! _He scolded himself. _Count said it was test mission, sure, but a mission you failed and a test failed both! Can't you do anything right-_

Mr. L slid his arm across the workbench, throwing the rest of the tools to the floor(_feel better at the mindless destruction)_

He was violently reminded of his brother, his mechanical brother being destroyed-_almost perfect replica almost-_ and there, that look on the red hero's face when Mr. L appeared from nowhere-

_(And didn't that remind you of something else, something worser and better of something else than a mechanical brother)_

A bolt of fear ripped through his heart. His legs gave out- no, his knees seemed to collapse under him, and he was on the floor.

Brother, he mouthed to himself. Another rip.

_Didn't the Count say focus on the present _his other voice pleaded, as Mr.L pressed his hand against his mouth- he felt ill now, feverish- _Count said not to think of the past, that it didn't matter and he was right why focus on such things when you're collapsed on the floor of a work shop and haven't even told Nastasia of your failure. Get up get up don't think go tell._

"Good advice, good advice , " Mr. L found himself murmuring, and that was enough to bring him back. He placed one hand on the edge of the table and pulled himself up. He let his hand drop from his mouth.

_Such a turn, such a turn, _his thoughts echoed. _Did bad in battle, did bad in orders-_

"I guess I don't really need to scold myself. " Mr. L said aloud. He never echoed out loud. "Nastasia is gonna scold me enough for two."

And he smiled. What had he heard that jester remark the other day-question mark-

"Such a dressing down has never been seen." Mr. L said, and laughed. "I might as well go and get it over with, "he added to himself.

He left his workroom. As he walked to Nastasia's office, he forgot about the word, "brother" and the ripping fear. His mind filled with thoughts of how angry Nastasia would be, and worry of how the Count would react, and that enough to keep him occupied until he reach the secretary's office.

Nastasia gave him enough to think about so that the incident was not remembered for a long time after.

OoO

_You know, thinking about it, maybe I shouldn't have mentioned I already posted the story on DA._


	3. Chapter 3

He always scratched his scalp raw in the shower. His hair was so greasy these days(_was it greasy before don't remember why remember) _ and Mr. L hated it. When his hands were covered in grease from working on Bro-bot(_brother, brother) _that was fine, but after washing and showering and getting into clean clothes, he was through with grease- the nasty, smelly stuff.

Mr. L opened the bathroom door and stepped out, glancing around the room as he toweled his hair dry. Nobody there, of course. (_didialwaysdothat) _He appreciated the locks on the doors. No one came in his room without permission- except that bastard jester. Dimentio teleported wherever he wanted, and not even the Count could stop him.

_Correction,_ he told himself, balling up the towel and throwing it back in the bathroom, _Count Bleck could stop him if he wished, he just has important things on his mind . _

_(important, important) _

"Okay, so where did you go wrong," he asked himself to override the echoes. The noise sounded awkward in the nearly silent room. Mr. L sat and laid back on his bed, looking up at the ceiling. "The first time can be excused, because it was the first time, first timers make mistakes. You didn't have Brobot then. But what happened in that second battle?"

(_The Count said to not think of the past)_

"How else am I gonna improve if I don't know where I went wrong," He countered.

(_he said he said )_

"I know." Mr. L said, and thought back.

The fight had started well, but it was three against one- not counting those pixel things the heroes had. Three against one, with back-up- but he had held his own for a while, restoring health with the Shroom Shakes.

When he'd drunken the last one, the heroes had ran him down to nearly fainting. Then , he had called Bro-bot –

(_Remember remember)_

"The look on the red hero's face." Mr. L said.

It was a look of astonishment- or recognition, or fear, maybe. It had been hard to tell.

"And I'd seen that look before, but where?" He asked.

(_Bro-bot, robot mechanical brother)_

That idea was a bust. Bro-bot had no expression.

"Think of how cool it would be if it did though," He said and grinned.

(_It would be a look of hate, or anger)_

"It was anger," He muttered, suddenly realizing. "That look was anger, he was angry at me. But why?"

(_I know why, Brother Brother Brother)_

Mr.L flinched- _Grambi that word- _Fear twisted in his stomach.

"Out the window, through the trees, not a chance it gets." He told himself, swallowing. The terror was so sharp, it almost hurt.

"Not brother, " Another jolt through his navel, was his heart trying to stop "not _brother," _the last word was nearly hissed at himself.

(_Come on Mr. L, he said not to remember but you remember anyways, don't you. You remember a lot of things, but you also believe the lies they spread- was it brother knows best, or Count knows best. I can't quite remember, but I know you do.)_

He surprised himself- one hand came up and slapped him across the face. Hard. His eyes finally opened from the motion and Mr. L looked at the ceiling, somber and dark and unfamiliar. He was breathing hard.

(_remember, brother)_

"Now see what you did," He said, his voice shaking, "See, Count told you not to remember, but you had to go and rebel. See where it gets you. You're cheek is smarting, and you're gonna have to take another shower, great job. Anything else you want to do. Any other order of the Count's you wanna just throw out the window?"

(_don't rebel)_

_(don't remember)_

"No then. Good." He swallowed again and finally blinked, his eyes burning. "You're losing yourself L," He said, sitting up in the bed. "Can't lose yourself. A mind's a big place." He stood and wiped his sweaty forehead.

Mr. L went back into the bathroom. His hair felt sweaty and nasty around the hairline, and would be itching if he didn't take another shower. He had a few more hours before dinner, he'd make it.

_(You don't want to lose yourself in there.)_

**OoO**

_One more chapter. _


	4. Chapter 4

He ran. He ran and ran until he was well out of the heroes sight, and then he ran some more. His heart was pounding in his chest, and when he stopped, he had to stop half keeled over, hands on his knees and gasping for air.

"Why can I never win," Mr. L said to himself, his voice sounding more like a whimper that he'd have wished. "He beats me every time, no matter what…"

He found the strength to straighten and did so, clutching his face. Shame was twisting inside him again, gouging and gouging a sharp blade. He felt the urge to throw something- His dark green hat fell through the empty space.

"Doesn't he know?" He yelled, twisted his hair in anger and exasperation, "I've trained til I've passed out! I've given every bit of myself to beat him! Every moment has been testing preparing-"There was a sharp pain and suddenly there was loose hair between his fingertips," to beat him! That's my life! My only purpose!"

Mr. L paused, still panting. "Doesn't he understand that?" He yelled. "Doesn't he?" The energy drained from him like a leak in a pool, and he flopped to the cold lifeless ground, holding his head in his hands.

"Doesn't he," He murmured, and only then did he realize how close he was to crying.

_Come on Mr. L, get a grip on yourself, _he thought. _Get a grip get a grip. Stop remembering the fight, you need to get back to the Castle. Count said. _

"Count said, Count said, " Mr. L muttered.

_Can't stay in the past. Even if Brobot's demolished again-_

"Just like Mario." He said, and a bolt of fear went through his gut.

_You're slipping, you're slipping-_

"Mario, brother, Mario brother," He said, and found himself repeating it, again and again as his hand scratched uselessly in his always was greasy hair, and the tears were soaked in the not-his mask. His hair was always greasy, Mario's was never. He'd never worn a mask, it was never his.

_Get a grip, Get a grip, _his mind whispered uselessly.

"brother," He murmured once more, and the programming took over.

_Count said, Count said, remember what your Count said? Stay in the present, don't think about the past. Follow orders, Follow orders, that's the one you disobeyed. _

He shuddered. Almost with a click, his mind snapped back into place. Count said. Count said.

Mr. L wiped at the wetness on his face and stood. He walked over to his dark green hat lying on the ground, tucked it on his head, and wiped at the tears once more. His face was pale, spots on his cheeks red.

_Didn't follow orders._

"I don't know what it is about those guys, but I just can't seem to beat them." He said out loud. A voice from behind startled him.

"Aha ha ha. Did they wound your fragile pride Mr. L? Demolish your robot again?"

**END.**

OoO

_There. Done. Have fun__? I did._

_Love ya, bye._


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